My Second Life Read Online Free PDF

be close to my mum too? Could I be close enough to find her? To see her? And Dad?
    â€œYou’ve lived there a long time,” I said, trying to hide the weakness in my voice.
    â€œForty-five years next April,” she said, and she looked at me with a stare that was utterly unreadable. And I realized that the whole time we’d been speaking she hadn’t blinked. Not once. “Do you live nearby? I’ve never seen you. I’m quite sure.”
    I shook my head.
    And I said it —
    â€œI knew your daughter.” I just said it.
    And I held my breath, after I did, to hold on to the sob that was rising in my chest.
    â€œMillie told me that she lives on Connaught Gardens. That’s close by. Perhaps we’ve seen each other, in the street.”
    â€œNo — I knew your daughter!” I cried out, standing up as I spoke.
    Frances paused before she answered, her eyes still firmly fixed on mine.
    â€œI heard you the first time,” she said. “Now sit down.” I sat automatically, at her command.
    â€œI … I know it sounds like the most unlikely, most unbelievable thing you’ve ever heard,” I said, “but — ”
    â€œMy daughter died thirty-four years ago. Thirty — four — years.” She repeated the words, emphasizing every syllable, as if the pain of all those years was encapsulated in each and every sound.
    â€œI know, but…” I had to tell her I was Emma. I had to tell her. If I couldn’t tell her, then there was no one I could tell. No one.
    â€œI’d like you to leave now,” she said.
    â€œDon’t make me leave!” I said. “I’ve got to talk to you.” Suddenly I was desperate.
    A nurse approached the bed with a fresh water jug and said how nice it was that Frances had a visitor and how she must be pleased. Frances just nodded and smiled. I waited for the nurse to leave. It felt like an age, but eventually she went. And then Frances spoke again.
    â€œMemory is a strange thing,” she said. “I’d say you’ve seen me before, around and about, but you just haven’t remembered, until now.”
    â€œNo! That’s not it — it’s not — ” My voice was getting louder now.
    â€œYour grandma lives near me. You’ve probably seen me somewhere in Teddington when you were visiting her.”
    â€œNo!” I said again. “It’s not that — ”
    â€œMy memory plays tricks on me all the time,” Frances said, interrupting me, slow and strong. And as she spoke she cast her eyes around the ward as if she were looking for someone to call over, to raise an alarm. Was she going to call security? Was she going to get me removed? I panicked.
    â€œPlease — please,” I said. “I want to talk to you about Catherine — ” and my voice cracked as I said her name. “Please — ” I was leaning forward now, speaking in an urgent half whisper. “Please — ”
    Frances turned her head back toward me and looked straight into my eyes. It was a hard look.
    â€œI was Catherine’s mother,” she said. “Once. A very long time ago. But as I told you, she died.”
    â€œI know,” I said. It was all I could think to say.
    â€œDid Millie tell you?” she asked
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œAbout Catherine.”
    â€œShe told me you’d lost your daughter.”
    â€œAnd that’s why you’re here?”
    â€œWell, yes … no … I knew already … That’s why I’m here. Because I knew.”
    â€œI don’t know how you could have known Catherine. I don’t even know how you know her name. I never told Millie her name.” And she looked suddenly pale, pale as paper, and I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to make her ill again.
    I shouldn’t have come. What was I thinking? I panicked.
    â€œI shouldn’t have